Rejected Luna’s Vegas Redemption

### Chapter 4 (Archie’s POV)

A Wolf’s Regret

Six months after I rejected Amber, my office in Whitestone’s casino-hotel feels like a gilded cage. I slam the door, the thud swallowed by the electric hum of Las Vegas neon pulsing outside the window. Pack treaties and financial reports clutter my desk, their edges curling in the dry desert air, but my mind refuses to focus. Amber’s face burns behind my eyes, her hazel gaze wet with tears, her voice cracking as she begged me to stay that night.

“Don’t do this, Archie,” she’d whispered, her hands trembling. I’d turned away, my father’s words echoing, ‘Love makes an alpha weak.’ My inner wolf howls now, clawing at my chest, furious I severed our mate bond. The ache is a blade twisting in my gut, nearly dropping me to my knees.

I slump into my leather chair, the divorce papers glaring up at me like an open wound. They’re final, inked in black, but they can’t erase her. I see Amber’s smile from a dinner two years ago, her hands bandaged from kitchen burns she got cooking for me, burns I never asked about. She’d laughed through the pain, her voice warm, her eyes soft with love I didn’t deserve. My wolf snarls, blaming me for ignoring her strength. Caleb, my father, drilled into me that an alpha rules alone, that mates are liabilities. But my wolf disagrees, growling that Amber was our anchor, our fire. I rub my neck, trying to silence him, but he’s relentless today, urging me to track her down, to fix what I broke.

“Where is she, Sam?” I ask my beta, pacing the polished oak floor, my boots thudding.

Sam leans against the wall, his broad shoulders tense, his dark beard flecked with gray. “No trace, Alpha,” he says, his voice heavy with pity that stings worse than scorn. “She’s gone.”

“Damn it!” I hurl my phone onto the desk, the clatter sharp against the hum of machines filtering up from the casino below. Six months, and not a single lead. My wolf paces inside me, his anger a storm. Rogues don’t snatch lone wolves like Amber not without a fight and Silverfang, our rival pack, doesn’t meddle with Whitestone’s affairs. She was an orphan when I met her, no family, no allies. I thought she’d have nowhere to go, that she’d crawl back, broken. I was wrong. My wolf’s fury surges, clawing at my ribs, blaming me for letting our mate slip through my fingers.

I sink back into my chair, running a hand through my hair. The memory of that final fight claws at me. I’d slapped her hard when she dared question my decision to reject her. Her cheek had reddened, but she didn’t cry then. She just stared, her silence louder than any scream, before walking out. My wolf had howled, begging me to stop her, but Caleb’s voice in my head held me back, ‘An alpha doesn’t bend.’ Now, that choice haunts me, a ghost I can’t outrun.

My phone buzzes, snapping me from the memory. It’s a text from Graham, an allied alpha with a knack for stirring trouble. He’s sent a tabloid link with a single word ‘Interesting.’ My wolf nudges me, sensing something big. I tap the screen, and my breath catches. Amber’s face glows, radiant in a tailored emerald dress, standing between two men, her smile fierce, like she owns the world.

The headline blares: Silverfang’s Lost Wade Heir Found.

Jealousy rips through me, hot and bitter. My wolf growls, possessive, his claws sinking deeper. She’s not the broken woman I pictured she’s thriving. The Wade family, Silverfang’s wealthiest bloodline, a rival family that controls the trade routes that keep our packs’ casinos flush. Amber, their heir? Impossible. She was an orphan when we met, scraping by in a diner, her clothes threadbare. I read on, my heart pounding.

She’s the daughter of Alpha Wade, presumed dead in a rogue attack years ago. The man beside her, Benjamin, is her brother, his sharp jaw and dark hair mirroring hers. They’re hosting a gala tonight at the Venetian, one of Whitestone’s own Strip casinos. Right under my nose, and I had no clue. My fingers grip the phone so hard the screen creaks.

I call my investigator, my voice tight. “Find everything in the Wade family, especially their daughter. I want it delivered now.” I hang up and stride to the window, the sunset painting the Strip in shades of blood and fire. The neon signs flicker Bellagio, Caesars, the Venetian each a reminder of Whitestone’s power, power I'm supposed to wield. My wolf howls, demanding I go to her, claiming she’s still ours. I argue she’s moved on, that she’s no longer the woman I knew, but he’s a beast, clawing at my resolve, his hunger for her a living thing.

The investigator’s report arrives in minutes, a testament to his fear of my temper. Amber will be at the gala, unveiled as Silverfang’s heir. My decision is instant. I yank on a tailored suit, combing my dark hair to mask the chaos inside. The mirror shows a man in control of an alpha but my eyes betray me, wild with my wolf’s desperation. I grab my keys and storm to the garage, the growl of my Benz echoing my wolf’s rage as I speed toward the Venetian.

The ballroom is a spectacle chandeliers cast golden light, champagne flutes clink, and the air hums with the scent of jasmine perfume and polished leather. Whitestone and Silverfang elites mingle, their tailored suits and glittering gowns a stark contrast to the raw power in their eyes. Alphas and betas murmur, their voices laced with ambition, their glances sharp as knives. I step inside, my chest tight, my wolf pacing restlessly. The broken mate bond tugs, a faint thread pulling me through the crowd.

Then I see her. Amber stands beside Alpha Wade, her father, his gray hair slicked back, his steel-blue eyes scanning the room like a predator.

Her blue dress hugs curves I never truly appreciated, its fabric shimmering under the lights. Her dark hair falls in sleek waves, and her hazel eyes flicker with a silver glow, a mark of Wade blood I never noticed. She’s not the timid Luna I rejected, the one who flinched at my temper. She’s a leader, her aura electric, like she was born to command. My wolf whines, longing to claim her, but my throat burns with the truth: she’s built a life without me.

I push through the crowd, ignoring a rival alpha’s smirk Landon from Redclaw, always eager for my missteps. A beta near him mutters, “Whitestone’s slipping,” and my wolf snarls, itching to prove them wrong. Wade’s gaze locks on me, heavy with warning, his broad frame a wall between me and Amber.

But I keep moving. She’s all that matters. Her eyes meet mine, and for a heartbeat, pain flashes our past, the slap, the rejection, the nights she cooked for me while I ignored her. Then it’s gone, replaced by a cold stare that cuts deeper than claws.

“Amber,” I say, my voice low, rough with everything I can’t say.

“You don’t belong here, Archie,” she says, her tone sharp as broken glass, no trace of the woman who once begged me. Her necklace, a silver pendant I barely noticed before, catches the light, glowing faintly with a hum of magic that makes my wolf uneasy.

“This is my casino. I don't need an invitation.”

“We're talking now.” Her strength unravels me. My wolf surges, urging me to fix this, to make her ours again. I grab her hand, pulling her toward a quiet corner near a velvet curtain. “We need to talk.”

She yanks free, her eyes blazing, the silver in them flaring. “You shattered me once, Archie. You don’t get to try again.” Wade steps closer, his aura a heavy weight, like a storm pressing against me. Benjamin, her brother, glares from nearby, his brown eyes like Amber’s, his fists clenched, ready to fight. The crowd quiets, their whispers sharp Landon’s low chuckle grates, and the beta’s muttering grows louder, speculating about Whitestone’s weakness. My wolf roars, desperate to claim her, but her words land like blows.

“I’m not your Luna,” she says, her voice steady, cutting through the ballroom’s hum. “I’m Silverfang’s heir. You threw me away. Deal with it.”

Her words are a whip, lashing my pride, my heart. I want to tell her I was wrong, that my wolf still calls her mine, that every night I see her face and hate myself. But my throat locks, Caleb’s voice whispering that an alpha doesn’t beg. Wade’s hand rests on Amber’s shoulder, his eyes daring me to push further. Benjamin steps forward, his stance a challenge, and the crowd’s murmurs swell, a mix of curiosity and judgment. My wolf howls, torn between fighting for her and backing down. If I challenge her now, I’ll lose Silverfang’s respect, maybe start a war between our packs. But letting her walk away feels like ripping out my heart.

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